


Awake

by 01Christy01



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark, Evil, Eyes, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy, First Kiss, Forests, Gravity Falls Oregon, Human Bill Cipher, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mystery, Original Character(s), POV Original Female Character, Return, Revenge, Small Towns, Teenage Dipper Pines, Teenage Mabel Pines, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/01Christy01/pseuds/01Christy01
Summary: Well... well. Let's just say, there were a lot of questions in my head, when opening my eyes I saw not my pillow and a lamp on the bollard, but a statue of Bill Cypher. Lots of.





	Awake

The eyes were so tight that I could not even open them to one miserable millimeter. The picture is black, all in some brownish-grayish spots, it's not possible to consider something, and the eyelashes seem to be the most real punishment, because it is on them that ill-fated mud that holds the eyelids keeps. The cloudy image slowly but rightly affects the nerves, makes it look like a frown and senses some kind of easy, tickling anxiety in the chest, pouring over the whole body into an unpleasant chill, as if something is so viscous and agile. By the usual movement, I raise both hands to my face and begin to rub with a convulsive eye, scraping off the dried crust from them and gradually clearing from it long eyelashes. The painful sensations of wrinkled skin remind us that the face is clearly in a dreaded condition, clearly swollen and wrinkled; it seems that here also the mascara remained on them, since last night I came home so tired that I just fell into bed, not even changing clothes. It meant only that now, not only blue-purple bags will be around the eyes, but black divorces are charming.

Little by little, the memories of the past day began to come back to me ... A muffled image, blurred and too vague, as if some kind of distant voice echoing out into a hefty memory room. A company of close friends' friends who laughed, poured energy into each other and almost fought for something, an exhibition of motorbikes, which forced me to dress appropriately - black rocker clothes or rather what I was in a hurry to find in my closet, once again being late. What was after? The pictures are confused and still do not throw anything that is necessary: various stupidity and pranks, talks about everything in a row, loud music and a burning throat gentle and sweet energetic ... No, I remember. We took one of the bikes for rent, began to skate through the streets, it was late, dark ... Night city, multi-storey buildings and bright lights in the windows; a lot of lanterns along the road, roaring cars and screwing wheels on steep turns, striking cold winds on their palms. Only one guy from the company was able to drive a motorcycle really well, another went behind and did not hurry to not provoke an accident. Further, even kill me, I will not remember. Drank what is something more energetic than energy? There is a fog in my head, a picture flashing in front of my eyes, too, my bed ... Although about the bed is not sure. It will be necessary to clarify from others, and then somehow it does not seem to be due to such a peculiar memory loss.

I am sweetly stretching and throwing my arms to the side, clenching my fingers into fists and smarting with nails in my palms, which instantly sober the sleepy mind; I immediately feel on myself a cold leather jacket with silver inserts, several spikes on the shoulders and a decorative small chain. Yesterday her friend gave me, ashamed of my improper appearance (I repeat, there was no time to select things). The thing was a couple of sizes more than necessary, which made me feel somehow strange, but it looked "appropriate" on me, as Nat put it. Strange, by the way, nobody was concerned about it - everyone was looking at the new parts of bikes shining against the setting sun, explosive drawings on them, from which I myself, with admiration, bit the lips of my lips, wanting to touch the smooth, polished metal, and huge sizes brand new, no doubt expensive cars. Michael already drooled, so wanted to buy one of them; He was not only a dedicated fan of bikes, but also a great driver, with whom I happened to drive later... It seems that is why we have thrown ourselves together to ride. I don't remember exactly.

Well at least that no one felt the cloying smell of power engineers from us - in fact, the same alcohol. It was rash on the part of the owners, but it seems they were so tired in the evening from the numerous visitors to the exhibition and millions of questions that even with all their desire they wouldn’t see who was going to rent their bikes there. In addition, our guys look quite adult for their age and adequately, so excusable. On the street, the smell was problematic, in the end ...

Only now I’m frightened, even somehow I panickly stop and listen to my own sensations and sounds, which are completely dissimilar to the usual, usual for an average apartment in which I had the chance to live, with sugary and restless surprise, well ... all my life. So the standard awakening is not mysterious to me (even with a hangover, this is not a hallucination). Perhaps the parents are watching something on TV in the next room? Too loud, because and so clearly audible? Mom loves all kinds of programs about nature, animals, and sounds from there ... Well, it still does not justify sensations - it is impossible to feel the grass under your fingers that is soft and dewy when you live in the city. Maybe it's still a blanket?...

Usually, here and there, sweetly smacking in the morning early (or early), I knocked down the lamp on the bedside table next to the bed with a sweep, and because of the deafening roar caused by this and the frightened thought that now it was definitely broken, woke up, exploding on the bed and with a grimace of horror on her face, looking at the lamp lying on the floor. Surely I really drank, and my parents, knowing about this habit of mine, removed the lamp so that my awakening would be easier? Oh, nonsense, which still does not fully explain everything. It is unlikely that I would have just forgiven my unexpectedly riotous lifestyle, which was previously completely alien to a teenager. Broke off the chain on the head will not stroke.

The air is clearer than in my ever-closed room, tickling my nostrils, so fresh and light, as if from a stuffy car with a freshener in the cabin, I went straight into the forest untouched by humans - such a truly pristine clean, untouched by human environment. It smelled of nature, some plants and flowers, a little pine - sweetish aromas, soft and affectionate; and all this didn’t fit in with the fact that I live in a dusty city, in a high-rise building surrounded by exactly the same buildings identical to mine. There just can not smell like that, unreal. This is a joke, right? Friends decided to go on the mischievous and take me into the woods early in the morning? What nonsense come to my mind? Or do they?

It is also surprising that my consciousness is absolutely pure, not a single superfluous or late thought is there; the body is completely rested, nothing hurts, it does not hurt, as if I slept in the royal beds, and did not come home late at night and with my foggy alcohol, my mind fell onto a hard mattress. Such sensations are doubtful after an actively spent day in the company of people whose brains had long since left to rest somewhere south and melted there under the heat of the sun, as if they were ice cream forgotten on it. Why are only those idiotic disputes that we have always been plotting, even without good reason ... Are they driving me like a tree yesterday, or was it before? Something memory completely fails, although earlier I did not complain.

It seems to be a very good idea to listen to your non-standard sensations, which came to an empty little head of an awakened teenager. Thoughts, it seems, are quite a lot there, but how to ponder more deeply is all about nothing. Not a single sensible comment in the head, which could really help, is just some confusion of pop-up facts and memories that, besides, they will be completely out of place now. My whole life is as if in some thick fog, which seems like a distant fairy tale, magical and beautiful, but before the goosebumps are unreal; and the most frightening thing is that I don’t understand at all why this particular feeling takes my soul. With every second that flies past in the dark, the panic covers with a new force and does not allow common sense to get closer to the skull box with a more logical explanation of what is happening.

Having sighed deeply the sweetish, light aroma of the forest, I feel something tickling the skin of the face and hands; something incredibly soft and thin, delicate, even smooth to some extent, and this “something” is clearly not like my own blanket, so hopes of being at home are broken to pieces. And, unable to withstand all this crazy confusion, I finally open my eyes, with my eyes fixed on the muddy landscape that opened, the brightness of which blinds for a couple of seconds and makes me twist and squint. Completely different shades of green prevail in all this, although somewhere on the side I also notice something large and gray. My heart begins to accelerate and dullly pounding in my chest when I realize that this is really far from my little cozy room with an old purple lamp on the nightstand that my parents bought me at seven years old. And, honestly, it gets a little scary.

After standing up, I start frantically wiping my eyes, getting rid of the muddy veil that blurs the image, and blinking rapidly, watching the picture acquire a sharper shape, details of reality finally appear. Misunderstanding captures the soul when it comes to the mind that I am in a forest clearing - not too big, but no less real. There are tall trees around - pines and some other ones whose names I have never known, bushes with some berries and moss on stumps and trunks of deep green color. Soft grass cuts into the skin of the hands, when I lean on the ground to rise to my feet, tickles it in part, moisturizes with cold dew.

A sharp pain from a lift pierces my head, my state of health is somewhat frightening, although it is rather alarming. The early sensation of lightness in the body instantly disappears, and it seems that it was just a deceptive illusion, and the skull box pulsates so much, as if I were so impressed with something before that. Fingers even mechanically stretch to the back of the head, with a force to rub the aching place, squeeze out the pain, but in the end only jerked, barely touching the matted hair. The picture before my eyes swam to the side for a couple of seconds, but then it fell into place, and I shook my head, banishing the aching, painful feeling, which caused dark strands of dirty hair with some leaves to fall on my face. Regaining balance and finally making sure that I can stand on my own feet and walk without risk of flopping back on the ground, having received a couple of bruises and scratches, I squinted because of the bright sun just above my head, began to examine in more detail the gray spot I was interested in. the forest was not very curious.

"What is it?.."

Honestly, I already choked with surprise as soon as I turned to him; eyebrows themselves soared up from surprise and dumb surprise - in front of me stood a little statue of Bill Cypher covered with green fluffy moss and some kind of dust. And even if I was not a little girl that watches cartoons, but it was about this series that I heard a lot, and I even watched it once. And it was difficult to know the stone version of the triangle in the cylinder and with an outstretched hand, you know, the character is memorable, especially when it is full of half the Internet.

"If this is a joke, then very bad!" I shouted somewhere up, twisting around its axis and frowning "Come on, go out, the tricksters are unfinished, this is absolutely not funny!"

Holyly confident that this is some kind of stupid joke of my dear friends - and very, very bad, since taking a person to the forest, putting a cartoon statue there and throwing it somewhere - the height of indecency - I was rather angry and offended, felt deceived and abandoned than scared. And who likes these feelings? Yes, probably no one. When friends leave you, you feel unnecessary and lonely to anyone - even if it's all for a joke. Resentment and through the lungs, intending to give the jokers all in the face, including what they are idiots, what a stupid sense of humor they have, what foolish ideas ... Gods, seriously. Has anyone seen such jokes at all so that they can be taken to the forest? It was necessary to try: a place to find, a moment to prepare, a statue to be bungled ...

"This is revenge on me, yes?" I added quieter, sighed heavily and dropped my hands. It seems that my habit of playing out and teasing others has come out of my left side. The prospect of getting stuck in this deep forest (the sounds of civilization, at least, somehow it was not around) was not bright, but getting out of here without a map is somehow complicated; there was no particular desire to choose the direction in the style of “eniki-beniki” either "Okay, where is a camera?"

But as time went on, the hot rays of the sun slowly burned my head, literally roasted my dark crown, and I already regretted that I was all in black clothes, which obviously was a little out of season, not for such a “lukewarm” day, and yourself a huge jacket that turned out to be just some kind of park. The T-shirt was much nicer to sit in the sun, however, the rays still burned my pale skin and all actively strove to leave on it the most real red burns, from which then it would be impossible to touch the shoulders without hissing. So after some not very long time, I nevertheless decided to capitulate and crawl away into the saving, so cool and inviting shadow of a huge tree on the edge of this clearing. And the back in the form of a trunk appeared as a bonus. Not bad too.

Judging by the sun, slowly moving along the light blue sky, a couple of hours have passed since my awakening here (although I am not sure, because in all these sundials or how strong they were not from the word “absolutely”), but behind me all nobody was going to come. There was not even a hint of someone's presence in this forest - only I alone, like the last fool, sat under a tree, folding my hands on my knees and methodically tapping on them with long fingers, as if waiting for some kind of miracle. And, frankly, now I started to frighten such an alignment of events, because I didn’t have the desire to spend the night in the woods either: I had to attend the lessons through time, so I was aware of all the living creatures. At least it was necessary to be afraid of mosquitoes - even with them there was not enough military action, what to say about the fact that something more would get here.

And by that time it was already completely fed up to tear the grass around me into small pieces, and my legs were numb from sitting in one place for a long time and in the same posture. Mind slowly began to whisper in his ear that it was necessary to rise and do something — it would not work out differently.

"So, guys" I grumble, returning myself to the upright position and sticking to the tree. "You want to have fun - will be. Only then you have to feed me at your expense, because I am very hungry".

Sighing and sadly looking at the dusty, stone statue a few meters away from me, I still unwittingly realize that just because she would not have set here that she definitely has some kind of goal. There is something nasty in the chest that squeezes the lungs in its grip, probably pride - I really do not like it when they laugh at me, and this is what my dear lovers of jokes will do after all that has happened. And yet I walk up to the stone and carefully look at it, as if now under my angry gaze it will melt, but my friends will give up and, with incomprehension in their eyes, ask what the hell. I have no idea what to do with this statue, to be honest, and I don’t remember all the subtleties of the series from which this character is - much time has passed since then, and I watched the series with one eye, while doing homework in the school.

Clutching my tongue, I still toss (not) my jacket into my other hand and gently touch the fingers of Bill’s outstretched palm, as if awkwardly shaking it in response. The first few seconds, absolutely nothing happens, I just squeeze his hand and feel the burning cold emanating from the stone, when suddenly a deafening crash is heard, a sharp bluish light blinds my eyes, and a blast throws me back.


End file.
